


How do I love thee? (let me count the stupid ways)

by aurora_australis



Category: Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears (2020), Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: A Good Old Fashioned Jack Robinson Rant TM, Banter, F/M, Pillow Talk, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26242597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_australis/pseuds/aurora_australis
Summary: "I'm not losing you like this! Not after all the other stupid ways I've nearly lost you.""What stupid ways?"Turns out, Jack's got a list.Set right afterMiss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears.
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 28
Kudos: 192





	How do I love thee? (let me count the stupid ways)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuzieQ27](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzieQ27/gifts), [Arlome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlome/gifts).



> Based on SuzieQ27's delightful prompt, _When Jack is taking his shirt off to save Phryne from quicksand he says, "I’m not going to lose you like this not after all the stupid ways I nearly lost you" and Phryne says "what stupid ways?" It would be great having Jack tell her all the stupid ways,_ and Arlome's suggestion that it happen right after the tent scene.
> 
> Thank you for the fun idea!

It was late. Very very late. Phryne was absently tracing patterns on his chest and the air in the tent was cool but he was pleasantly warm beneath her and he was almost, nearly, totally asleep when her long, amused chuckle reached out to pull him gently but firmly back to wakefulness.

“You didn’t have to go to such extremes to show this off you know,” she said once she had stopped laughing, humour still laced through her voice.

“Show what off?” he inquired, shifting slightly. She wanted to talk, and he was game, but he needed to get a little less comfortable if he was going to stay awake for it. 

“This.” Her hand was still on his chest and she tapped it twice to indicate that it was what she meant. 

“What extremes?” he asked, looking for clarification and wondering if he had any hope of being alert enough for this conversation after all.

“Your little quip about all the stupid ways you almost lost me which just _forced_ you to remove your shirt even though my parasol was _right there_.”

Well... now he was awake. 

He shot her a mildly dubious look as he stretched out slightly on the bed. “Uh no. Sorry, but there were no extremes to be had. First of all, I forgot about the parasol and second, I meant every word.”

Her smile was both highly amused and highly skeptical as she looked up at him in the lamplight.

“Jaaaaack, I’m not complaining. I’ve been waiting ages to get you unbuttoned. It’s just… well who knew the secret was some highly unlikely quicksand?”

“Precisely. Yet another _stupid_ _way_ I almost lost you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, Jack. But just so you know, next time you can just take off your shirt without the pretext.”

Jack sat up a little further, his ire properly raised at her presumption. “No pretext at all, Miss Fisher, sorry to disappoint.”

She grinned. “Is that so?”

“It is,” he confirmed. “In fact, I have a list.”

“A list? How very organized of you, Jack.” She rolled her lips and feigned, _poorly_ , a serious expression. He raised an eyebrow at her cheek.

“Would you like to hear it?” he asked.

Phryne sat up a little more herself, curious as ever. “Oh Jack, I really, really would.”

“Fine. Let’s just, for the sake of expediency and getting _some_ sleep tonight, gloss over the many, many, _many_ times you’ve almost been shot or stabbed, given the obvious and almost banal nature of those methods.”

“Very sensible, Jack. Go on.”

“I will, thank you. Now let’s see, there was the sandbag to the head, broadcast live on the wireless, snake in a drawer — ”

“Oh, that was just a warning.”

“ — knifed by a numismatist, drowned as a mermaid, caught up in a vendetta involving sinister tinned tomatoes — ”

“Oh no,” she interrupted again, firmer this time. “That one was technically a shooting, and I thought we weren’t counting those.”

“Mmmm. Point to Fisher, you may strike that from the record. Now where was I? Oh yes, electrocution — self-inflicted _with an ax_ I might add — a sword fight, a fistfight, a sideshow knife act, falling off a building — ” 

“I was perfectly secure.”

“ — and however the hell Nicholas Mortimer would have killed you if he hadn’t had to improvise at the last minute — self-destructing tap shoes perhaps?”

“Well now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Oh I’m just getting warmed up. Drowned in a vat of wine — ”

“That never happened.”

“So you say.”

“Mostly,” she added guiltily and he tilted his head slightly in victory. 

“Point to Robinson. And stop interrupting, I’m not even close to done.”

“I should hope not,” she replied with a glance down his body and a very saucy wink.

Jack just rolled his eyes and continued.

“Chasing a fleeing suspect in an airplane, thrown off a train, held hostage by your… cousin?”

“First cousin once removed.”

“Ah. Of course. Spider bite —”

She shot up and poked him accusatorially in the same chest she’d been admiring minutes earlier. “You said that spider was harmless!”

“It was. _Mostly_ ,” he added impishly. She glared at him but scooted that much closer and he really couldn’t find it in himself to regret the tease as he spiritedly went on with his list. 

“Held hostage in a bank, held hostage by a cobbler, held hostage by your first cousin once removed _again_ , a cave-in and a curse — both of which were only in the last few days, by the way — and, finally, let’s not forget the original and most absurd: _steamed to death in a Turkish bathhouse_.”

Phryne grinned. “Oh yes, that one was rather ludicrous.”

“An understatement, Miss Fisher. I shudder to think what the obituary would have read.”

Her eyes widened playfully. “Hopefully something about me being too hot to handle.”

“Mmmm. And I assume the term ‘incendiary’ would have been used a fair few times as well.”

“Oh, do you think?” she asked hopefully and he grunted in reply, but there was no bite in it. There was no bite in any of it. He’d made peace with the way she lived her life long ago; he wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t.

Phryne chuckled as she danced her fingers over his skin once more, and Jack closed his eyes to better enjoy the sensation. After a time she moved nearer still, her lips now very close to his ear. “You know, Jack,” she began playfully, her fingers migrating lower as she did. “I think you’re too focused on these big deaths, when you could focus on... the little ones.”

She was so obviously pleased with her terrible joke that Jack shook his head, and the fact that his eyes were still closed was the only reason he didn’t roll them as well. 

“Little death of me,” he grumbled nonsensically in response and she laughed, full-throated and guilelessly, just delighting in the moment, and that, _that_ , more than her wandering fingers or whispering words, was the reason he helplessly opened his eyes to look at her once more. 

Her ability to find joy in all the places — dark, bright, and nonsensical alike — was one of the many, many reasons he loved her.

And he’d almost lost her so many, many times… 

Stupid ways indeed.

Jack sat up, just a little, just enough to take her hand and look her in the eye.

“I pushed you away,” he said, seriously now, no trace of the teasing or fond exasperation of his earlier recitation.

“Jack?”

“I put up walls, I ran away. I fought this thing, this… miraculous thing between us for a very long time.”

Phryne’s eyes softened as she realized what he was saying. With her free hand she reached up to touch his face.

“I ran away too,” she said quietly. “I was worried about what this,” she gestured between them, “would mean. I was worried I’d lose myself.”

“I reacted… badly when I found out you weren’t dead.”

She gave him a little shrug and a slightly apologetic smile, acknowledging that perhaps neither of them had been at their best recently. “Well I did ask if that was a new hat.”

“Well in fairness it was.”

She laughed again, a sort of surprised half-choked noise, a remnant of a painful moment in time, though her eyes were clear and bright and happy as she gazed up at him now. 

“I got scared,” he offered simply. It was, after all, the truth.

“Me too.” Phryne whispered. “Oh Jack, what a pair we are.” She pushed an errant lock of hair off his face and gently touched her forehead to his. “So many stupid ways we almost lost each other.”

He gave her a wry smile. “It makes the quicksand seem almost reasonable.”

“Mmmmm,” she concurred, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Let’s stick to the reasonable ways going forward, shall we?”

“Agreed,” he said, pulling her back for another kiss, which she ardently returned.

Somewhere outside a camel bellowed, reminding Jack, briefly, of the real world.

He remembered it was late. Very very late, But her arms were around his neck and his heart was in her hands and when she kissed him like that he really couldn’t care less about the hour and oh look at that, now it wasn’t just his ire that was properly raised. 

She pulled back after a moment to gleefully take in this new development and he gave her a slightly puckish pout in response.

“Well now I’m awake,” he complained, unsuccessfully biting back a grin.

“Oh I can see you’re up,” she agreed, her eyes twinkling happily.

Jack shook his head even as he pulled her closer. “However will we pass the time?” he murmured as he moved to kiss her once more.

“Oh don’t worry, darling” she said against his lips, her hands once more wandering south. “I have a list of my own.”


End file.
